


Black Sun

by ravenstrange



Series: Save Tonight [7]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: But I had fun writing it, F/M, I don't know what to tag this, Poetic Johnny Silverhand, Short One Shot, That's a tag now, free form writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenstrange/pseuds/ravenstrange
Summary: The end and the beginning of them, told in ten parts.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & Female V, Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: Save Tonight [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114709
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Black Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beammeupbroadway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beammeupbroadway/gifts).



**One.** When it happens the third time in one day, one hand is on her back as his other holds her hair back. The most they were able to do was get her into the shower and get the water on before the fourth wave happened, and she was brought to her knees. The water soaks through her clothes as she tries to regain her composure, trying to stop from coughing. He’s destroying her, inch by inch, atom by atom. Any attempt he tries to stop it, somehow only makes it worse. The less she loses, the more he gains. He doesn’t want this. The woman beneath his fingertips is frail, broken, weak. The light in her eyes is dying, and he’s the one with the hand on the switch. The devil is not as black as he is painted, no, he’s greyer these days with a penchant for smoking too much.

 **Two.** She tells him that she’s not sure if she’s ever truly been happy. It comes out of the blue, he thinks. Only, it didn’t. He could feel it building in her all day, because it was building in him as well. He’s not sure where he starts and where she ends anymore. She says that every time she thinks she’s happy, it’s ripped away from her so quickly her head spins. The bitter laugh that leaves her tastes sour, and while he’d usually match it, this time he doesn’t. He starts to tell her that happiness is overrated, but he stops himself. Instead, he tells her _there is no greater sorrow than to recall our time of joy in wretchedness_ but disappears before she can question him.

 **Three.** It’s understandable, then, when they come to an end, and he wants to give his life for hers. It’s understandable, then, when she fights him every step of the way. But he’s weak. He can’t stand the idea of watching her die all over again with being completely powerless to save her this time around. She will haunt him, for as long as his mind is active, but his wings were not enough for this, to lift her up when she was falling. It’s painful to say goodbye. And like a coward, he says nothing at all.

 **Four.** The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain, but he’s not perfect by a long shot. He doesn’t deserve the blinding lights shining into his eyes, he does not deserve the pain of aching body parts and a heart too large to move. When he tries to move, there is a gentle touch on his shoulder. A tender press of lips to his temple, a whisper that they will make use of the time that they have left. It’s cruel, he thinks then, to be brought back to lose her again, but when he expects her thoughts to come back at him all he hears is silence.

 **Five.** They bicker more that he is alive and solid in front of her, but they love stronger for the same reason. Their course together is set for an uncharted sea, and he’s never been one good with navigating. But she always takes the lead, showing him where they need to go and need to be. He takes solace in her arms, she takes passion from him, he tries to live and breathe and love enough for both. He knows that it’s true what they say that beauty awakens the soul to act, and if anything, he is a willing actor now. To move against her, to let her devour him whole so that there is nothing left; if he admits any of this out loud in the moment, she doesn’t call him on it. Only presses her lips to his skin and sings his name against him.

 **Six.** Time is not on their side; it is never on their side. There is no easy solution, and they, by not doing, not by doing, lost. He had always thought there would be a way she knew that she wasn’t telling him, but instead the opposite is true. There is no option, and this is all that is left. It’s a last-ditch effort, as they find a way back to the Net, back to where this had started. Promises are made, promises that most likely cannot be kept, but he’ll do anything he can to save her.

 **Seven.** The path to paradise starts in Hell, and the city is a proper analogy for it. Where the impossible once could have happened, now those paths were closed to him, only ever opened because of her. Because of the impact she had on those around her, the improvement to the lives she made. He had never been able to change the life of anyone, even though he now was so desperate to do so. He raises enough hell, he screams until his lungs are sore, until someone finally hears him. When it becomes clear what he needs is not in the city, he leaves at first light, leaving her body behind.

 **Eight.** He’s bleeding and his arm is broken, _it’s part of the plan_ , he lies to himself brilliantly. The plan didn’t mean to bring him to New Mexico, the plan didn’t mean to get him stabbed and broken, the plan didn’t mean to leave him for dead. There’s a savior in a familiar face, and he barely gets his request out before a bargain is struck. Once more, he offers his life for hers. He did not die, and yet lost life’s breath – he would do anything to bring it back. When they travel back, he doesn’t remember it, barely hanging onto whatever pieces of him are left that are not with her.

 **Nine.** It shouldn’t have worked, he shouldn’t have survived, but to see her alive and next to him is overwhelming. To be lost again in her, to have her lost again in him, to belong again once more is divine. And love rules them, it determines what they ask of each other when there is nothing but them. He can’t give her the answers she longs for, because he doesn’t know them himself. She can’t give him the answers he is curious about, but perhaps that’s for the best. Their salvation grows out of their understanding of what they cannot change, and that is enough.

 **Ten.** Love, which moves the sun and the other stars, is above him, singing into the air between them of things he does not deserve. He tells her that he’ll earn them, but she kisses him with such demand that tells him that he already has. They need and want, belong and desire, and when they come up for air, there feels like there is finally a fresh start. And together, they move forward.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points to anyone who knows who I quoted in this, like the dork that I am. :)


End file.
